


The Way We'll Die

by FalconNights



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: CF Spoilers, F/F, cathmir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:28:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23615989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FalconNights/pseuds/FalconNights
Summary: Guardian MoonImperial Year 1187Shamir Nevrand is summoned to Enbarr.
Relationships: Catherine/Shamir Nevrand
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

_All things considered, Enbarr hasn’t changed much_. The hustle and bustle of a city was familiar to Shamir. The lively marketplaces, the arrogant nobles, the beggars, and urchins. Even as the sun dipped to dusk, the city would continue. She slipped her way through the crowds of the main square. Her cloak was not enough to keep the biting cold of the Guardian Moon at bay, mild though it was in the southern reaches of Fódlan. _It’s one thing I can’t seem to get used to._ She closed her cloak in a shiver as a chill wind blew.

* * *

 _So… hot._ She stumbled through debris. There wasn’t even any sweat left on her. She collapsed onto her knees. _Water…_

* * *

At last, she stood in the shadow of the palace. An offensively large structure; tiered and foreboding. _Fit to loom over three kingdoms_ , she thought. Hubert was waiting for her.

“I am glad to see you have answered Her Majesty’s summons.” Despite his uncaring face, Shamir had been around Hubert enough to see the cracks in his stoicism. A slight lean forward, a flex of his brow. _Aww, he’s happy._

“Is it a request, or a contract?” Shamir answered. She tossed her hood back. She suspected Hubert had learned to see through her own façade. _Let him; it’s nice to see the kid again_.

“Such things shall be discussed in your audience with Her Majesty. Please, follow me.” He turned and began walking across the drawbridge. Shamir followed.

* * *

She thought the flames were deafening… but the roar of a demonic beast… or whatever it was… carried above it all.

* * *

“Her Majesty and I were both sorry to see you leave.” She couldn’t see his face but suspected that it was not a lie. “After all, you had gone on about staying as a… specialist, was it?”

“Times change minds.” She answered matter-of-factly. She had stayed… for a while. But a restlessness sat in her soul. Still, in the year she had spent away, it was no less a part of her.

The palace interior was gaudy; Marble walls and pillars, enormous vaulted ceilings. Shamir could catch glimpses of extensive gardens between the buildings. It reminded her of the monastery, in a way. The same inhuman feats of architecture had built Enbarr and the monastery both, so it goes. Guards stood at every entrance, and each stared at her. But she was used to these kinds of looks.

* * *

Another knight fell as she loosed an arrow into their neck. Did she know them? _It doesn’t matter._

* * *

At last, the throne room. It felt larger than the whole palace. Hubert walked her to the foot of a grand staircase and then began to climb it. Shamir started to follow, but he silently turned and held up a hand to stop her. _Ugh._ He was halfway up when she called out. “So, I’ll have to shout, will I?”

And that’s when she finally stirred. Sitting beneath the massive twin-headed eagle was Edelgard von Hresvelg, the Flame Emperor.

“I apologize.” She called down. “But this is one ceremony that some insist…” Her gaze drifted to Hubert, who was climbing the last step. “…should not be removed.”

Shamir rolled her eyes. “What do you want?”

“I am pleased to see you again, Shamir.”

“What do you want?”

The emperor sighed. “Very well.” She stood from her throne. “We have heard tales of a bandit terrorizing our troops who travel the Magdred Way.”

“You brought me here to kill a bandit?” Shamir answered, taken aback.

The emperor hesitated. Her gaze was far away. _What is she hiding..._ “Are your ‘Wings’ busy?” Shamir asked.

That brought the emperor back to the present moment. “She is on a crucial mission. I wish that I could be by her side, but…” _This is where Hubert smirks to himself_. “It is of no importance to my request of you.”

“I’m looking for contracts, not doing favors.”

She could see a faint smile on the distant emperor’s face. “Very well, you shall have payment. And we will provide for your expenses…”

Shamir crossed her arms. “But?”

The emperor’s smile fell. “Forgive me. I did not think you would wish to see payment at the end of this path.”

“Why are you asking me to kill a bandit?”

“I am asking you to end the bloodshed.”

 _Wait…_ Shamir felt her gut sink. Her legs became unsteady. Her whole body shivered. _How? Why now?_ And then she was filled with anger.

“How do you know it’s her?” She shouted. Her voice was thick with accusation.

It was Hubert who spoke next. “The scars from a hero’s relic are rather telling, wouldn’t you say?”

“How… do you know… it’s _her_.” Shamir repeated.

“Who else can wield Thunderbrand?” He hissed.

“Hubert!” The emperor’s voice dripped with disapproval. “We received a report that the bandit wielded Thunderbrand, and so we sent for you.” She sat back onto her throne. “Will you do Adrestia this service?”

A thousand thoughts flew across her mind. Feelings long since buried welled in her heart. _There’s no way…_ _but if it is her…_

“Fine.” She accepted. "I’ll take your contract.” She turned away from them and stormed out of the palace.


	2. Chapter 2

She didn’t know where anybody else was. It took everything just to fight for her life against the flames. She stumbled down the street, more tired than she had ever been in her entire life. _It’s worse than Nuvelle…_

She heard a loud snap, and the inn next to her began to tumble into the street. She dodged between wood and stone and fire. It cut her; it burned her. It knocked her off her feet. But it did not stop her. She pressed through the ruined city.

Without warning, a falcon knight swept down through the smoke and threw their spear at Shamir. It missed, but not on Shamir’s account. _That was lucky._ The archer somersaulted into cover and drew her bow as quick as lightning. She loosed the arrow and watched with anxious hesitation as it sailed far over her target. The knight was coming back around.

Shamir pressed on as the knight stalked her. It felt like hours passed, but time had no meaning here. And then, at last, she spotted them. Their pegasus was failing. _Choked on the smoke, most likely._ They plummeted from the sky and landed in the inferno below.

* * *

The quickest path to Magdred was through the Oghma Mountains. And Shamir was set on taking the quickest path. She rode north with only the bare essentials. The Fódlan winter grew stronger as she passed Fort Merceus.

All the while, her mind was plagued with doubt and uncertainty. _Am I going to kill her? Again?_ _Has she been there this whole time?_ And her heart was sick from tender memories.

“I realized that I might actually lose you someday. And that’s… scarier than I expected.” That was what she had told her.

 _Well, you did lose me, Catherine._ “If there ever comes a day where our paths do diverge, know that I’ll always be with you.” And that was what Shamir had told her back. _I’m such a fool._

* * *

She had made it to the base of a great staircase, and standing at the top was Catherine. Her heart soared. Overwhelmed with happiness, she forgot the circumstances completely. She raised her foot to the first step, and Thunderbrand glowed. Five years came back to Shamir. She would have cried, were the flames not burning so hot. So, she steeled herself the way she always had.

Catherine walked down the steps, Thunderbrand in hand. Shamir was the first to speak.

“Hello, Catherine. I always knew this day would come.” She nocked an arrow.

“What a coincidence, so did I.” Her voice was full of familiar glee. “It seems that now we have no choice.” She was near the bottom now.

“We have nothing in common. Not our backgrounds, not our beliefs.” She lamented.

Shamir finished the thought. “Not the way we lived… or the way we’ll die.”

And with that, Catherine charged.

* * *

The Lone Moon hung in the sky when Shamir finally left the Oghma Mountains. The edges of her cloak had been tattered in a rockslide. She had taken to tying her hair back, lest it fall between her eyes and her bow. A month of contemplation, and still, she had no plan. She pushed aside all thoughts of what to do or say. _It will come to me when I find her._ She promised herself.

The famous fog of the Magdred Way kept her ill at ease. _She chose an excellent place to hide…_ The road was all she could see. As she followed its twists and turns, she stared out into the fog beside her, imagining the smiling knight she had known all those years ago. Shamir was not one to cry often, but it was hard not to. Ever since she came to Fódlan, she had striven to avoid becoming a creature of regret. But near the end of her path, what choice did she have? _No._ Like she had done a thousand times before, she pushed all feeling from her heart. But this wasn’t a battlefield. She could not keep these thoughts at bay for long.

Shamir wandered Magdred for days. She rode through day and night, only briefly stopping for short and dreamless sleep. She contemplated that perhaps Catherine had fled the area, or perhaps met an unfitting end from a beast. _No. She’s here. She’s alive._ But on the road, she felt no closer to finding her. And then an idea finally came to her. She rode for Castle Gaspard. _Bait._

* * *

She awoke in a tent, startled upright and breathing rapidly. Her breaths turned to coughs, and someone rushed to her side.

“Steady.” They said. “Please.” They gently pushed her back down. She couldn’t find the strength to push them away. “It’s okay.” They insisted. And the feeling of panic began to fade away.

“Where-” She started.

“Hush.” And suddenly, her eyes felt heavy.

The next time she woke, it was painfully slow. _Was that magic?_ She tried to move her arm but failed. It took her several moments to realize it was tightly bandaged. She was burned and cut all over. Wounded were all over the tent, and there were not enough healers to tend to them. She began to cough again, expelling spit, phlegm, and dust. _How long…?_ Her thought trailed off, and she forgot that she had ever pondered it.

She woke again in darkness. But around her were the pained groans of dying soldiers. But no one was here to help. _Have we… left behind…_ She was afraid. But even so, her eyes closed.

When she woke this time, the tent was full of healers again. Determined to end this cycle, she rolled herself from her cot and crashed onto the ground. Agony shot through her arm, and she cried out. Someone rushed to her side and grasped her gently. _Catherine?_

“Please.” Said the figure.

“No.” Shamir cried. “Get me out of here.”

They helped her stand and tried to guide her to the cot, but she pushed away and stumbled towards the entrance of the tent. They called after her, called others to stop her. But she made it out first. She expected a breath of fresh air but was met with a lungful of smoke.

The sky was utterly red. Her nose burned at the smell. Tents stretched as far as she could see. “Catherine!” She called out. She took a step forward. “Catherine!” She repeated. She couldn’t see anything. Her eyes were flooded with tears from the smoke. A hand fell on her shoulder. “Catherine?” Another hand. A third. Pulling her back. _Oh. That’s right._ She thought. _I killed her._


	3. Chapter 3

Shamir rode just behind the detachment. It had taken some convincing to get the castellan to deploy troops again.

“The soldiers are frightened.” He had pleaded. “We stopped sending out patrols months ago. It’s not safe.”

“I am here to make it safe.” She answered plainly. But she knew then and there that anyone who left the castle would likely die. _Not me, though… Not me._

“What’s Garreg Mach like?” One of the soldiers called to Shamir. “Big.” She replied.

“Is it true you were in the Knights of Seiros?” Asked another. “I’m a mercenary.” She responded.

“To abandon your allies like that…” One muttered to another. Shamir tried to ignore their chatter, but it continued. “Could you do that?” “I don’t know…” “I’ve heard she’s not even from Fódlan.” “That must be why, then.” “I think she’s Dagdan.” “Working for the Empire, now?” “She’s probably switched sides before.”

“Enough!” She roared. The battalion halted. They stared at her. The silent fog crept in. _Why do I care?_ The wind softly blew leaves across the path. _Because they’re right? Or because they’re wrong?_ And then the wind fell still. A soldier stepped forward from the rest.

“I’m sorry.” He said. “We shouldn’t have…”

There was silence again for a moment, and then there was screaming.

One soldier was cleaved aside, and then another. Shamir’s horse bucked as the scent of blood filled the air. _She’s carving through them like cake_. In a matter of moments, they were scattered. The clash of steel echoed through the fog. Shamir leaped from her saddle and drew her bow, but in the flurry, she couldn’t see a thing. One after another, the cries fell silent. She took a step into the fog.

Shamir’s heart was beating faster than it ever had before. Each step was full of hesitation. She was wound too tight. She raised her bow and realized no arrow was nocked. _Get it together._ She corrected her mistake. She wanted to call out so badly.

With only the warning of a snapped twig, Catherine was upon her. Shamir twisted towards her. Thunderbrand was held high, but its glow was faded. She could barely parse the figure wielding it. Catherine brought it down overhead, and Shamir spun to her right. Then Catherine slashed across with the blade, and Shamir fell to the ground. She drew her arrow back and loosed, but Catherine knocked it aside. The knight leaped towards the archer. Shamir rolled to the side just as Thunderbrand stabbed into the earth.

Shamir stood as Catherine ripped the relic from the ground. “Catherine!” She shouted, not expecting an answer. She didn’t get one. The knight came at her again with pure fury, and it took all Shamir had to stay even inches away from the deadly blade. _She’s inhuman._ No arrow Shamir loosed could find its mark. _I’m slipping up. She’s going to-_ She backed into a tree.

Shamir tripped over its roots as Thunderbrand cut deep into the bark just where she had stood. Catherine loomed over her, straining to rip the relic from the tree. _A chance!_ Shamir fumbled an arrow into place, but before she could loose, Catherine abandoned the sword punched down towards the archer. Shamir curled forwards as Catherine’s fist slammed into her gut. The knight kicked her aside, launching Shamir into the cold, wet grass. But she still had her bow.

Catherine stormed towards her. Adrenaline coursed through Shamir’s veins as fiercely as Catherine’s crest coursed through hers. Shamir nocked and loosed, and an arrow flew into Catherine’s leg. The knight cried out; the first human sound Shamir had heard her make. Catherine took a step and then collapsed onto the grass. Shamir slowly climbed to her feet, shaking all the while. She nocked another arrow. Catherine stared at her, tried to rise, and failed.

Finally, Shamir could parse her friend again. Catherine’s hair was long and ragged and muddied. It fell across her face and down to her shoulders. Her armor was badly damaged. Some pieces charred black, some pieces missing. Her face covered in scars. Her nose… _I can’t believe she survived it._ The utter hate in her eyes broke Shamir. “Catherine.” She cried out meekly. The knight crawled towards her. “Catherine, please.” Shamir dropped her bow and took a step forward.

The archer collapsed to her knees in front of the crawling knight. Catherine stared up at her. Shamir could tell… one wrong move and she would pounce. “We’re… partners… remember?” The adrenaline rush began to fade. Tears welled in her eyes. And Catherine just stared at her. “I… we…” Shamir couldn’t find a single thing to say.

“Sha… mir…?” Catherine muttered. Her voice was ragged and weak from disuse. Tears spilled out of Shamir, and she wept with her whole body. Anguish, guilt, and joy mixed in her heart. And Catherine started to cry too. Shamir tore off her gloves and tossed them aside. She ran her hands through the knight’s hair and across her cheeks. “I’ll never…” She cried, “…leave you again.”

Catherine grabbed Shamir’s leg. “Are you… a ghost?” She rasped. Shamir just held the knight’s head.

“No.”

“But, I… killed you…”

Shamir laughed. “I thought the same of you.” She began to rock back and forth. “But I found you again.” She wailed. “I looked for so long, and I finally found you.”

Catherine pulled her head away and rolled onto her back. “I thought… I lost everything.” She muttered. The arrow protruded from her thigh. “I thought I could kill you, Shamir, but I couldn’t live with it.”

Shamir wanted so desperately to respond, to say she felt the same, but words just could not come from her mouth. She fell forward and caught herself, her face inches from Catherine’s. Her tears dripped onto the knight’s cheeks. There was no hate left in her eyes. _No, it had never been hate._ Shamir could feel Catherine’s breath, and her heart began to race again. But just as she lowered her head, Catherine’s rose and brought her into a deep kiss.

* * *

Shamir tightened the bandage on Catherine’s thigh. The knight grunted in pained annoyance. “That should do for travel, but we need to get you to a healer.”

Catherine shook her head. “Not… in Faerghus.” She insisted. Her voice had improved, but it would take time to heal.

Shamir brushed the knight’s cheek softly. The archer was smiling so hard she forgot what to say. And Catherine smiled back. They both wished this moment would never end, and someday it might not. But not today. Shamir rose and whistled for her horse, who trotted over to the pair. She helped pull Catherine to her feet and held her steady. The knight climbed onto the horse, groaning as she did so. Shamir climbed into the saddle and readied the reins. Catherine wrapped her arms around the archer and rested her head on her shoulder.

“A healer,” Shamir said again.

“They’ll recognize me,” Catherine repeated.

Shamir pointed to Thunderbrand, still lodged halfway into the tree. “Not without the sword.” She smirked.

The realization crept over Catherine, and she was filled with pure awe. “Not without the sword…” She muttered. And then she laughed. And, despite everything, to Shamir, her laugh sounded just like it always had.

* * *

Catherine and Shamir were never heard from again. But many have pondered that the numerous stories of a hot-headed swordswoman and her sharpshooter companion that stretch from Almyra to Dagda bare a suspicious resemblance to the legends of Thunder Catherine and Shamir who held a fated duel at the battle of Fhirdiad.

But known throughout all of Faerghus is those who find themselves lost in the mist of Magdred may stumble upon the legendary blade in the bark, waiting for a worthy soul to wield it once again.


End file.
